


Time; Keeping

by Interrobam



Category: Peter Pan (Disney) (1953)
Genre: Community: disney_kink, Dark Agenda, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, Minor Violence, Minor Vore, Old One, Permanent Injury, Secret Admirer, Shapeshifting, Tricksters, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobam/pseuds/Interrobam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even he did not know the full ancientness of his shape. It was only in the recent age, after the great scaled beasts died off and the canny mammals began to flourish, that The Crocodile grew as clever as they. Clever he was, so he spun a world out of stray dust motes and forgotten scraps of thread. Neverland, he called it, but despite its fancies The Crocodile grew languid with ennui. Clever Peter amused the animal in him, but there was something else growing in him, something which demanded someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time; Keeping

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Disney Animated Kink Meme.

Even he did not know the full ancientness of his shape. It was only in the recent age, after the great scaled beasts died off and the canny mammals began to flourish, that he grew as clever as they. Clever he was, as much as he was bored and needful of a plaything, so he spun a world out of stray dust motes and forgotten scraps of thread. Unsatisfied with the scenery, he stole children and animals into it and made them as ageless as he. He created mountains and bays; sweet, luscious forests and sucking deserts; he set it all afloat upon the sea. The fae grew curious and greedy of him, and so he allowed them too to inhabit Neverland. Despite these fancies, The Crocodile grew languid with ennui. Clever Peter amused the animal in him, but there was something else growing in him, something which demanded someone else.

It was in the tenth autumn of Neverland's existence that he found this someone else, his One and Only Prey. A pirate ship sailed into his bay, never to leave it for the rest of eternity, and upon it there was a man all in scarlet with a plume in his hat. He looked, for lack of a better word, edible. The old reptile wound its body under his ship curiously, hearing that the scarlet man's name was Captain Hooke, and that he was infamous and keen by legend. The Crocodile lusted to meet him.

Taking human form was difficult, much morseo than searching the Captain's expectations for a new world and peopling Neverland with caricatures of Indians and a dangerous bars to his satisfaction. The legs were of a funny bend and length, the eyes useless underwater, the skin so malleable. Yet The Crocodile had adapted for what could not be less than sixty million years, and he was not to be bested by this parlor trick. He created for himself an outfit of many buttons and trims, before setting off for the dive bar where he knew Hooke to travel. The Pirate was there alright, discussing his baffled charts with a funny plump man in a striped shirt, his crew drinking and celebrating all around.

“Captain?” The brim of the hat, the pale plume lifted, and The Crocodile smiled at the face of this meal, of this meat. “I could not help but note that you are not a regular here. Is that your ship yonder, in the bay?” He watched the Captain search his face, which he had carefully made handsome, his soft smile yet to abate.

“Indeed it is Mr...?”

“Mr. Porosus is fine.” The stuffy humans had already named his native body, he might as well put it to use. He took care to extend his hand so that the indignant, portly man was cut off from his Captain. “It is an admirable vessel.”

“When it isn't aground.” Hooke spat bitterly, smoothing the map with his thin fingers

“A pity.” The Crocodile's face was sympathetic. He delighted in the softness of this man, his bitter childishness. “Let me buy you a drink.” Hooke glanced at the man, and he returned the expression with a steady gaze, his intent clear to anyone who cared to look.

“Captain.” The striped man wheezed “We really must look over these charts.”

“Later, Smee. We have plenty of gold and plenty of biscuit, there is no need to rush out of here all at once.” The Captain waved Smee away, and The Crocodile enjoyed the bitter expression on the jealous man's face as he sat down.

“Now, dear Captain, what is your poison of choice?”

This ship was even grander on the inside, the Captain's quarters most of all, as The Crocodile found five drinks later when he was invited back to it. The bed was comfortable, not that he spent much time relaxing upon it. Instead he made his tongue, his yet sharp teeth, useful on the pirate's body. He was edible indeed: the salt of his sweat and of the air tickled him, and his member in The Crocodile's mouth was pleasant enough. As the Captain tasted his flesh in turn, he wondered at the benefits of malleable skin, and knew indeed that this was something he would have to try again.

He left in the early morning, sliding effortlessly back into his scales, back into the mud. He was sated, and for a time they did not see each other, The Crocodile and his One and Only Prey. But soon enough their fates bent to become even more deeply intertwined. Clever Peter and his boys took an interest to the pirate, and The Crocodile was there to see them fight one another, to see the spurt of blood when the Captain's left hand was loosed from his wrist. Clever Peter taunted the injured man, hand in hand, before throwing the useless flesh into the water of the bay for the reptile to devour. It was so much more than edible, it was delicious. He awaited hungrily as the fight continued, with much ferocity from the Captain Hooke. There were other pieces of debris that fell into the water, and in haste and curiosity The Crocodile swallowed a pocket watch.

He liked the ticking, the timekeeping of it, but more than that he liked the taste of blood lingering in his mouth, so much better than deer and infants that wandered too close to the river. He liked that there was a part of Hooke inside of him: a part the Captain could never retrieve. He would own that hand for the rest of his ancientness. It did not bother him when, at the Captain's next venture near the water, the man heard the ticking and escaped from his jaws. This was a treat to be savored, and he would enjoy it any way it was presented.

Once human again, he disgorged the pocket watch and one of Hooke's rings onto his palm. The watch he polished and put into his waistcoat pocket, the ring he swallowed again. He found the Captain sulking in one of the taverns, a crude metal hook bandaged to his hand. Hooke with a hook! Captain Hook. Why hadn't he thought of that before? He must eat his other hand to make up for lost time. Weary and beaten, his One and Only Prey looked up and beckoned him to the table where he was nursing a pint of rum.

The Crocodile smiled sixty five teeth wide.


End file.
